


Anhedonia

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Uninished, Work In Progress, abandoned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anhedonia - The Inability to experience pleasure from activities usually found enjoyable. </p>
<p>Spencer Reid has a serious problem, but involving the team could put everyone at risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've written in years and the first I've ever posted here. Future chapters will be longer and more detailed. This is just a little taste.

Derek gave a low groan as he rolled over in bed, unconsciously reaching for the warmth that should have been beside him. His hand slid across the dark cotton sheets, seeking out the warmth of his partner. It had only been a few months, but Derek had quickly grown accustomed to the company. The sheets were cold beneath his hand and a tangle of blankets lay in place of the warm body that should have been there.

“Spence?” Derek called out, suddenly wide awake and full of adrenaline. He shouldn’t have been so alarmed. Spencer had a habit of waking up early, but the glowing blue numbers on his clock said it was only 3:00am, well before even Spencer normally woke. They’d just returned from a particularly rough home abduction case. Two kids had died before they found their unsub, and the third would never be the same. It was the kind of case that made Derek glad he had someone to come home to now. It was also the kind of case that left him a little jumpier than usual.

“Spencer?” Derek called out again as he slid from the bed and squinted into the darkness. A light was on in the hall. He reached for his gun, loaded and ready in his nightstand just in case.

“Sorry,” Spencer said sheepishly as he appeared in the doorway, his form illuminated by the light behind him.

Derek let out a sharp breath and let the gun slip back into the drawer. Hopefully Spencer hadn’t seen him reaching for it.  He didn’t want Spencer worrying about him. He was fine, just a little more on edge than usual. “What’s wrong?” Derek asked, to worried for his usual pet-names.

“Just had to go to the bathroom,” Spencer said as he headed back to bed and shook out the tangle of blankets.

Derek waited for Spencer to settle into bed before draping one arm around him and slipping the other beneath his head. He thought about how cold the sheets had been and wondered just how long Spencer had been in the bathroom. It had to have been half an hour at least, but Derek wouldn’t mention it.

Spencer waited for the steady rhythm of Derek’s breath to indicate that he had fallen asleep before he uncurled his tightly clenched fist from around his cellphone. Just a few taps on the screen and the long list of missed calls disappeared. Spencer slid the phone beneath his pillow and settled back into Derek’s arms. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, but at least Derek would get some badly needed sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Given the UnSub’s early organization and subsequent deterioration, we believe that he is in his mid to late twenties” Agent Hotchner began as the rest of the team gathered around to contribute. The profile was a little rushed, but they were running out of time. The local PD should have called them months ago when the pattern was still organized and methodical.

“The victimology and location of the crimes suggests that the UnSub is comfortable in academic settings. Although the attacks have occurred across four universities, we believe he may have ties to the campus where the attacks began. He may be a student, employee, or someone who recently left the University under troubled circumstances,” Prentiss continued.

Agent Hotchner glanced at Reid. Usually he would have piped up with his own analysis by now, but Reid had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning.

There was an awkward gap in the flow of the presentation, as if the rest of the team had suddenly become aware of the unusual silence as well. Morgan frowned at Reid with worry before continuing on with his own thoughts, “Given the escalation of the violence and the ritualized nature of the attacks, we believe the UnSub is suffering from psychotic delusions.”

“We’re looking for someone who would have previously been very high functioning. He’s intelligent and likely successful academically, though he may have struggled socially. In recent months he has likely isolated himself completely,” Hotchner elaborated.

The soft vibrations in his pocket drew Reid’s attention, causing the voices of the rest of the team became droning background noise. He slipped the phone from his pocket discretely. Six new voice mail, and if he didn’t respond to them now they would only keep coming at an increasing frequency.

Morgan watched out of the corner of his eye, distracted by Reid’s preoccupation with his phone. It wasn’t like Reid to be so quiet when they were delivering a profile and it definitely wasn’t like Reid to be even slightly concerned with his cellphone. If it hadn’t been required for work, Reid probably never would have gotten a cellphone in the first place.  

“Are there any questions?” Hotchner asked. A dozen hands shot into the air and the team braced themselves for the onslaught.

While the rest of the team was fielding questions, Reid escaped into an empty hallway and pressed the cellphone to his ear and listened to the waiting messages with expressionless detachment.

“What’s wrong, Pretty Boy?” Morgan asked as he rounded the corner and found Reid on the phone.

Reid quickly dropped his phone back into his pocket and gave a noncommittal shrug, “Nothing, just a wrong number.”

Morgan looked unconvinced. Reid might have been a genius, but that didn’t make the rest of the team a bunch of idiots. Trying to lie to any of them was almost always futile. “You were quiet in there. Is something bothering you?” he asked.

“I didn’t have anything to contribute,” Reid answered.

Morgan found that hard to believe. Reid always found something to contribute, even if it was a seemingly unrelated fact about the local soil. Worse, Reid hadn’t actually answered the question, which meant that something was bothering him.

“Alright, Prentiss and I are going to interview the families. Hotch wants you to take a closer look at the school records. I’ll see you tonight” Morgan said, his voice lilting up slightly at the end as if he’d been asking a question.

Reid gave a slight nod and left without a goodbye, his attention already back to his phone.

\--

“Garcia, Tech-Wizard at your service,” Garcia said as she tapped away at her keyboard.

“Hey Garcia, could you pull up some records for me?” Reid asked, sounding tired.

“Of course, anything you need!” Garcia answered, eager to help.

“I need the records of everyone who has dropped out or been expelled from UC Berkeley in the last two semesters,” Reid said.

Penelope was already typing away without even bothering to ask Reid why he hadn’t gone directly to the school for that information. The team was running out of time and Universities were notorious for the red tape and poor cooperation. “Sugar, I’ve got about 400 names so far. You’re going to have to be more specific,” Penelope said, stabbing at her keyboard with the feathered end of a pen.

Reid pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated sight. “White male. Mid-twenties. Probably a graduate student. Shouldn’t this be obvious by now?” Reid snapped, articulating every work with irritation and impatience.

“Oh… okay,” Garcia replied, sounding hurt. She waited a moment, giving Reid a chance to realize how rude he’d been and apologize. It wasn’t the first time the stress had made Reid a little nippy, but he’d always been quick to apologize in the past.

This time the apology didn’t come and the silence dragged on until Garcia finally spoke again, “That narrows it down to then, three of whom had trouble with the school or were referred to counseling before they left. I’m sending you the list now.”

 Seconds later the line was dead, not even a thank you.

                --

It was after midnight before Morgan made it back to his shared hotel room. Before things had gotten serious he and Reid had only shared hotel rooms out of necessity, when hotels were overbooked and space was limited. These days, a shared hotel room was their standing arrangement and the rest of the team never asked questions. Like most things, it was impossible to hide their relationship but the team respected their privacy.

“Spence?” Morgan called out. He could hear running water, but it seemed a little late for a shower.

“Just a minute!” Reid shouted back.

Almost exactly a minute later the water shut off and Reid immerged from the bathroom, pajamas stuck to damp skin and hair dripping.

“Are we out of towels?” Morgan asked.

“No,” Reid asked as he dropped down onto the queen-sized bed and reached for a book.

Morgan kicked off his shoes and sat down beside Reid. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reid answered, his focus on the book in front of him.

“I talked to Garcia today… She said you blew up at her,” Morgan accused cautiously.

“I might have gotten impatient,” Reid confessed.

“Impatient? Reid you snapped at her for not being able to read your mind and then you hung up on her. That’s not like you. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Morgan demanded, getting a bit impatient himself.

“I’m just stressed. I lost my patience. I’ll apologize to her tomorrow,” Reid answered.

“When are you not stressed? Unless there’s something you’re not telling me about, I don’t know what could be stressing you out so badly that you’d hang up on Garcia,” Morgan said, stretching out on his side beside Reid and watching him closely.

Feeling the eyes on him, Reid rolled away from Morgan and kept his eyes fixed on his book.

“Come on, Spence… I know something is up. You’ve been quiet through this whole case and I know you’re not sleeping much,” Morgan said gently as he reached over to lay a hand on Reid’s shoulder. There were a lot of other little things that seemed off, but Morgan didn’t want it to seem like he was profiling his boyfriend.

Reid set aside his book and twisted around to face Morgan. “You’re right… I’m not sleeping much,” he confessed.

Morgan reached up and tenderly brushed a damp curl away from Reid’s forehead. “What’s bothering you, Pretty Boy?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Just nightmares. I’ll be fine,” Reid said. He might have sounded more convincing if he actually believed it himself.

 


End file.
